Adventure

We’ll catch the last note of taps
and ride it out of town,
down to where the lapping waves
play out their own lullaby.

We’ll dance upon the moonlight on the lake
and climb the glowing steps of clouds up to the sky,
where over midnight, murky waves
we’ll leap from star to star
and run our fingers through the sticky Milky Way
until a feather-tailed shooting star
shoots us down.

We’ll bounce upon the trampoline of treetops
bathed in early morning light
to wash us clean.

We’ll drink the dew
and munch the sugary confections of
mist rising from the lake;
then, full and fresh,

We’ll wake the morning birds
to sing us off upon a dandelion glider.

We’ll ride it on the current of the breeze,
with aquiline reveilles ringing in our ears,
through a jungle of wild ants and crazy grass.
The fluff will carry us until we jump off
and skydive into a bed of daisies
to warm us from the last chill of night.

We’ll jump aboard the train of thought
to take us back to my front porch,
and just as the sensible folk rise for the day,

We’ll brew a cup of tea
and reminisce about the night
we went on an adventure.